Room Service

Chapter Three

You guys weren't expecting this, were you? Two months later and here I am with a new chapter.

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            For the fourth time that afternoon, the phone was ringing.

            My patience had run out about an hour ago, sometime during the third call. Already spread between five different tasks, it was running dangerously thin; before my shift finished at eight, I needed to shelve all the fresh sheets that had just returned from the laundry room, check in the five guests that were due to arrive that afternoon, make sure somebody was around to haul their luggage upstairs, collect the breakfast orders from every room – and do all of the above while manning the front desk.

            I knew from experience that Walden summers were crazy, but we were only a couple of days in, and I’d already been swept off my feet. This was more hectic than anything I could’ve prepared myself for.

            Mum and Dad were in the process of recruiting new staff, but they couldn’t click their fingers and have them working in a matter of seconds – which, in the current state of chaos, was very much necessary. Until we found ourselves with a fleet of temporary workers to fall back on, I had to pick up the slack.

            So, when I staggered back toward the front desk, wrestling a tangled pile of sheets I’d been in the middle of shelving, and approached the phone to see the same words flashing across the caller ID as had been all afternoon, it took all I had not to throw it at the nearest wall.

            “Really? You again?” I snapped, completely losing grip on one of the sheets in my haste to shove the phone to my ear. Exasperated, I blew the stray blonde strands of hair away from my sweaty face. “What is it this time?”

            “Hey, hey.” The voice on the other line was irritatingly relaxed, oozing a perfectly polished charm that only heightened my impatience. “Now that’s not very good customer service.”

            “I really haven’t got time for this right now,” I told him, lowering my voice. Though I knew Rosemarie had left to hang out with her friends and wasn’t due back until that evening, I couldn’t help but glance nervously over my shoulder, as if she might already be snooping around after a whiff of Leon McCarthy. I wouldn’t put it past her to have his very scent committed to memory, leaving her able to detect his presence from fifty feet. And at a time like this, the last thing I needed was my younger sister bouncing off the walls when she found out her idol was in the same building. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do my best to get it to you.”

            “I was lonely.” I could almost hear his fake pout. “I wanted a chat.”

            It took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to swear loudly. “Are you kidding? You’re really telling me that you called room service because you wanted a chat?”

            “Whoa, chill out, it was only a joke,” he cut in quickly, seeming to sense the necessity for some damage control. When stress levels were running this high, I was by no means in the mood to be messed with. “I actually wanted to order an ice cream.”

            “Right.” Though I still felt ready to put the phone down on him, it was a mild relief to know the conversation had a slight purpose. Grabbing my notepad from the desk and pulling out the pen that I kept permanently behind my ear, I flipped the page. “What flavour?”

            “Uh…” To my irritation, the pause seemed intentionally drawn out. “Surprise me.”

            “Fine. Will do. Anything else, or are you going to save that for the call you’ll be making in ten minutes’ time?”